curseblessing
by addictcas
Summary: Witches are nothing but a pain in the ass. Literally, as Dean was just recently thrown bottom-first into a glass coffee table. But maybe he can forgive this one.


Fuck witches. Fuck them and their gross animal remains and their throw-you-across-the-room powers and their petty, vengeful disputes. Fuck this obnoxious bitch who just pushed Dean through her coffee table in her pristine, cream-colored living room (a stark contrast to the dank, gory dungeon in the basement).

Dean winces as shards of glass dig into his back, and then his view of the witch is blocked by six feet of angry ex-angel, just as intimidating in Dean's old flannel as he had been when lightning struck the barn and the shadows of wings spread across the walls all those years ago.

"Do not touch him," Castiel growls. The witch rolls her eyes and picks something out of the mess of spilled ingredients that had fallen off the table when Dean fell through it.

"I'm over all of this sexual frustration," she says, chucking the bag at Castiel's head. It hits him square in the face, breaking apart into dust and bits of bone, and then she is gone.

Sam, who was conveniently unconscious throughout most of the ordeal, gets up and pulls Dean to his feet.

"You okay?"

"Just peachy," Dean snaps at his unhelpful brother. As Dean brushes glass off of his ass, Cas turns around and looks at him with wide eyes, looking started and a little lost. Cas' first hunt as a human and he's covered in dried up animal bones. Dean ruffles his hair, dislodging gray dust and what looks like a tiny femur. Gross.

He jumps when Castiel's hand darts up and grabs his, pulling it in front of his face and staring at is as if it were a puzzling artifact he can't make sense of.

"Uh, Cas?"

Dean barely has time to blink before he's being pushed back into a wall, lips crashing into his and, whoa. What the hell?

"What the hell?"

The former angel pulls away for a moment, flashes of both heat and confusion darting across his expression. Then his mouth is attacking Dean's neck. Sam clears his throat.

"Apologies," Castiel gasps, pressing flush against Dean. He's getting hard, Dean can feel it. The hunter's dick seems to be completely on board with this. Dean shifts awkwardly, aware that his brother is staring at them in shock.

"I can't seem to–" Cas' voice breaks out into a moan right out of one of Dean's wet dreams. "Can't stop, I–" He grinds against Dean roughly and Dean feels his knees buckling. If it weren't for the strong weight holding him against the wall, he would undoubtedly be a boneless heap on the floor. Well, _mostly_ boneless. Dean can't help the laugh that bubbles up through his throat at his own hilarious sense of humor. The sound seems to snap Sam out of his horrified daze.

"I'm just gonna..." he flounders, his face red. "Car."

"Yeah, Sammy," Dean says, amusement taking reigns for a moment over the chaos of _what the fuck?_ and _holy mother of God._ "You go car. I'll just… um…" Well, Dean isn't really sure what he's going to do.

"Yeah," Sam says, dashing out of the room.

Despite the screaming urges to touch, Dean hasn't laid a finger on Castiel. He does now, but only to push him away. It's an understatement to say that Dean is met with some resistance.

"Cas, buddy, you've gotta calm down." Dean isn't sure what exactly the witch did to his friend, but there is no way he can figure it out with a horny ex-angel climbing all over him. Although Dean has dreamed of Cas touching him like this countless times, he never wanted it to be because of some stupid hex bag.

"These aren't real feelings," Dean explains, attempting to hold Cas at arm's length.

Castiel gasps, trying to get at Dean's mouth again. "The desire is my own," Cas explains. "The spell has just made it more urgent."

Dean's grip loosens a bit. "I, uh…" He has no idea what to say to that. It could just be the spell talking, but curse or not, Cas is a terrible liar. He seems sincere right now.

The fallen angel leans in, then backs up quickly. "I'm so sorry," Cas says, eyes darting around anxiously. "You don't want this." Before Dean can speak up, Cas takes a few more steps backward. He rings his hands together, a pained expression on his face. "You and your brother should lock me in the basement until you can figure out how to break this. Before I do something to hurt you."

"No, no," Dean says. Even if he _didn't_ want this, he and Sam would never lock Cas up in some crusty, scummy basement to suffer by himself. Dean reaches out and grabs Cas where his shoulder meets his neck, stroking his thumb against the flushed skin there. This gets a visible reaction from Castiel whose eyes darken. "I do want this. I just wanted to make sure you were on board with it. You know, it wasn't just the weird ju-ju doing the talking."

"I want this," Castiel breathes. This time, when he tries to kiss Dean, Dean lets him. That is until the hunter gets his thoughts clear.

"Wait, wait," Dean says, evoking a frustrated whine from Cas. "Not here. The motel. Just–fuck... five minutes away." Being as turned on as he is, Dean is reluctant to leave. But he's not sleeping with someone (someone who he is pretty sure is still a virgin) in some psycho magic bitch's house. He has standards, god damn it.

Cas doesn't say anything. He just backs away a few inches so that Dean is no longer pinned. Cas grabs him by the collar of his shirt and fuses their mouths together again, then proceeds to drag Dean out of the house, not once breaking their kiss.

The Impala is pulled up in the driveway and Dean barely has the door open before he is shoved inside and pushed up against the other door. Cas immediately straddles him and Sam groans.

"Ugh, you guys."

"Head back to the motel, get yourself a second room," Dean blurts out as clearly as he can considering there is a gorgeous fallen angel writhing around in his lap. "You can do your nerdy schoolgirl shit and figure something out while I–" Dean coughs to cover up a moan when Cas bites down on his neck. "–deal with this."

Sam scrambles to find a cassette tape from the box on the floor while Dean crams a first into his mouth. Soon Led Zeppelin is blaring more loudly than Sam would put up with in normal situations and the younger Winchester practically floors the car out of the driveway. Dean ends up hitting his head on the window.

"Ow, Christ."

Without dragging his mouth away from Dean's neck, Cas wedges a hand between Dean's head and the glass of the window. Dean smiles at that because even in the middle of a magically-induced hormone rampage, Cas still has enough brain power remaining to think of Dean's comfort. And _that_ is more of a turn-on than it has any right to be.

"Thanks," Dean manages to blurt out. In what Dean assumes is Castiel's overly turned on way of saying, "your welcome," the former angel digs his nails into Dean's scalp. It's not too hard, just sharp enough to sting a little and send jolts of electricity straight from Dean's head to… well, his _other_ head. Dean grips Cas' hips and pushes him down against his lap, grinding up to meet him.

"Dean," Cas moans. Dean can feel him shaking as he quickly thrusts against him. "Dean, Dean…"

"Yeah," Dean breathes out. He can tell Cas isn't going make it to the motel. "Fuck."

Castiel buries his face in Dean's collar, panting. Dean grinds up into him one more time and the fallen angel stills, letting out a low groan.

Dean feels Cas collapse against him, wondering if the curse is broken. He wonders if Cas will still want him after this.

Sam pulls up to the motel, pointedly _not_ looking into the back seat as he tosses the room key into Dean's face. He leaves the car running and makes a dash for the reception office to book another room.

Dean, still painfully hard, clears his throat. "So… do we still need that second room?"

Cas sits up straight and looks down at Dean's lap. "Of course." His voice is shaky. "Or do you not wish for me to take care of this?"

Dean smiles, cock twitching in his jeans at the seductive words coming out of his inexperienced friend. Cas is catching on fast.


End file.
